The Ring of Certainty
by hamima
Summary: Missing scenes from the series specifically centering around Bash's ring from 1x18. Features Bash/Kenna and a hint of Bash/Mary. Now complete.
1. Chapter 1

**Part One: **Pre-series

_"__What's this?" _

_"A wedding ring. It's modest I know. It belonged to my grandmother." 1x18_

"What's this?"

"Your grandmother's ring." Replied Diane de Poitiers, returning to her seat and picking up her needlework.

"Splendid! My life is now complete. I shall add it to the collection in my jewelry box and wear it every day to make the other girls jealous."

"Don't be flippant, Sebastian." Said Diane calmly, not even looking up at her son.

It was almost impossible to cause the beautiful Diane de Poitiers to lose her temper, and even in anger, her voice hardly ever rose above a honeyed whisper.

"Well then, Mother, please enlighten me regarding your expectations. Why aren't you keeping the ring and wearing it yourself?"

"It was bequeathed to you. You are come of age now; I felt it was time for you to have it."

"To put it on the finger of some girl, you mean."

"To remember who you are," snapped Diane, finally raising her head to look at him. "You are a king's son and fortunate to be in his favor, but you come from very little. The simple ring in your hand is all I have to offer you. I hear the stories of your little adventures. Tread carefully, my son. We both know from experience that there is a fine line between the King's indulgence and his disfavor. Whatever status you may ever hold in this life will have to come directly from Henry or his son, Francis."

"My brother."

"_Catherine's_ son. The legitimate heir to the throne of France. Make no mistake, there are people in court who would be glad to see your grandmother's ring become the only thing you have to offer as a future to a woman..."

"Well," said Bash, interrupting. "While this is certainly a lovely little motherly lecture, I am currently late for a standing engagement with Father. And, you've just said yourself, it is important to continue to please him. Excuse me."

As he approached his own chambers, the tiny ring clutched in Bash's hand seemed to burn his skin more and more. The ring had been an object lesson, not a gift. But what irritated him the most was how little responsibility his mother seemed to take for his current situation. Bash certainly hadn't asked to be the bastard son of a king's favored mistress. But since that was his lot in life, he had done his best to make the most of it. Bash's relationships with both his father and Francis had been strong for years. More recently, his favor at court and his relationship with the king had opened many doors for him involving travel, status, wealth, and women. The implications of his mother's lecture, the idea that she felt he would somehow manage to destroy the life he had built based on what little she had given him, grated on him.

Bash chucked the ring into a cupboard. He was tired of looking at it, tired even of thinking about it. It was practically useless to him anyway. No woman of status would happily wear such a modest ring, and if he ever fell so far out of favor with the King that it was the only ring he had to offer, he would most likely be as good as exiled… or dead.

Not that any of that mattered, thought Bash, as he headed for the stables. Given everything he had seen during his life at court, regardless of money or title, he knew one thing about his life with certainty. He was NEVER getting married.


	2. Chapter 2

**Part Two: **Filler for 1x13

_"__Marry me, Mary Queen of Scots, and make me the luckiest bastard on Earth." 1x12_

Bash examined his grandmother's ring again as he waited in the churchyard for Mary to arrive. The chill in the air was of little consequence as he took time once more to run his naked fingers over the small stone and the simple detailing, memorizing the look and feel of the ring he was about to offer his new bride as a covenant of his love .

It really was an insignificant trinket, practically invisible to a beautiful woman with multiple collections of jewels at her fingertips, yet Bash knew somehow that Mary would understand. He had been so angry when his mother had originally suggested this ring was the only item he could truly call his own, yet that was exactly what he found himself treasuring about it now. This ring was not a gift of benevolence or indulgence from his father; it was not something he had shared with nor stolen from his brother. This ring was his alone, and a symbolic representation of his life. He too was a veritable nothing—no land, no title, no money, a mother whose pagan background could lead to ruin, and an alarmingly tenuous relationship with both king and country. Neither he nor his ring was worth much without the added value of the woman to whom they belonged.

_"__I'm willing to take that risk." _

Bash replayed her words over and over in his head. She loved him. Mary, Queen of Scots, loved him. She had never said the words, but there was no longer any doubt in Bash's heart and mind. He had already determined there was love in the way she had looked at him over the past few weeks, in the way they had kissed and held each other in the quiet moments. However, the moment Mary had expressed her desire to marry him without guarantee of his legitimacy, knowing what she knew about the shadows of his past, any lingering hesitation he might have felt about her commitment to this plan had disappeared. They were in this together now, 'til death. In just a few short hours, Mary would be his forever in the sight of God and country, and Bash would officially be the happiest man alive.

The cold of the air finally became too much, and Bash regretfully tucked the ring securely back into his pocket before pulling on his gloves and beginning again to pace around the churchyard.

After they were married, Bash truly believed Mary might even come to realize she felt a deeper love for him than she had ever felt for his brother. While Francis had always claimed to offer Mary safety, respect, and political stability, Bash had watched his brother stifle her spirit and fail to meet her needs on more than one occasion, pushing her away only to demand her back, much like a spoiled child with a plaything. Bash knew without a doubt that he could give Mary a life that Francis would never be able to offer her. Francis might feel required to serve his country first, but Bash would vow to always first serve Mary. All else would fall into place if only he were allowed to spend the rest of his life making her happy.

The hardest part now was the waiting. Bash pressed his gloved hand to the outside of his pocket as he paced, feeling for the outline of the ring before again peering into the distance, sure he heard the approach of another horse. It was a silly, romantic notion, but he could scarcely wait to hear Mary 's voice say his name when she arrived. It wouldn't be long now until he would finally be able to revel in the love he saw reflected in her face and the certainty in her eyes as he put his grandmother's ring on her finger.

Unfortunately, the voice he heard first was not Mary's.

_"__Brother…"_

_"Francis..."_


	3. Chapter 3

**Part 3: **Filler for 1x18

_"__We're married. We can't be unmarried. I thought we'd agreed to at least try." 1x18_

Bash could hear Kenna humming quietly to herself at her dressing table as he sat studying the small pouch on the table before him. Inside was his grandmother's ring.

He had been thinking about it for several days now, specifically since the night Kenna had suggested he would never be the man for her that he had been willing to be for Mary.

_"__You'll be my husband, but never that."_

The words had burned in both brutality and truth. This life was not the one he had chosen; this wife was not the one he had wanted. Yet, here he was, and Kenna was right. Despite his best efforts, his feelings for his brother's wife lingered. Would there ever be a day when he would be able to refuse her requests? Would there ever be a day when he preferred his own wife's touch over Mary's?

Emptying the pouch into his hands, Bash allowed himself to relive for just a moment the range of emotions he had felt the last time he had held this ring in his hands. He had been so sure that Mary would understand it was ultimately the best he had to offer. He had been so clearly able to picture what her face would look like when he put it on her finger. Would Kenna even willingly accept such a worthless object? Would she be insulted that he hadn't offered her more?

Perhaps she would surprise him. In truth, Bash was willing to admit that he had misjudged both Kenna's intelligence and sensitivity. Even more than her emotional outburst in their chambers, the terror he had seen in her eyes during his father's ridiculous display in the throne room had stirred something within him. With or without love, as a husband, it was now his job to keep her safe, it was his job to make sure her daily needs were met, and it was his job to provide her with a wedding ring. If this marriage failed, Bash was determined it would not be because of his own lack of effort.

He was so absorbed in his own thoughts that the sudden sound of Kenna's voice startled him.

"I'm off to help finish preparations for Lola's marriage. I trust I shall see you at the wedding?" she asked companionably.

Bash shot her a tight smile and assenting nod. "It's more than likely," he offered.

Kenna returned his smile, but Bash noticed a flash of disappointment in her eyes as she turned towards the door. Clearly some part of her had been hoping for something more.

He couldn't promise that he would ever truly love his wife. He couldn't promise that there wouldn't be any more favors for Mary. But he could do his best to show Kenna that he was ready to try to be a good husband. Indeed, whether or not she knew it, the best proof of that certainty was currently in his hand.

Resolved, Bash stood up and took a few steps forward, calling her back.

"Kenna! Wait a moment. I have something for you."

As she turned, Bash held out the ring in his hand.

_"__What's this?"_

_"__A wedding ring. It's modest, I know. It belonged to my grandmother."_


	4. Chapter 4

**Part 4**: Set most likely somewhere in between 1x19 and 1x21

_"__I've such a queer feeling whenever I look at it." "What's that?" "A sort of certainty. One I've never felt before…." 1x18_

Upon entering the room, Bash found Kenna practically sitting in the dark. Her sad eyes followed him as he lit the candles. He couldn't help but notice the way she was unconsciously caressing the place on her finger where her wedding ring usually rested. It had been two days since she lost it, and she was still inconsolable.

"Kenna, that ring is practically worthless," Bash had insisted. "Compared to the rest of your jewelry, it's so small that I don't wonder you didn't even notice it was missing. I'll gladly buy you a new one."

"I don't want a new ring, Bash! I want _my_ ring—the one you gave to me!" Had been her indignant reply.

Once the room was again well lit, Bash moved to sit next to Kenna. "What is it about that ring that means so much to you, Kenna?" he asked gently, taking her face in his hands.

Her eyes dropped self consciously for a moment before raising again to meet his piercing gaze. "I like having something that truly belongs to you—to us—not Henry, not Catherine, not Mary. When I wear it, I feel as though you want me to be truly yours as well."

The full impact of Kenna's words was almost too much for Bash. It was the warning in his mother's lecture, the reflection of the hopes he had originally had for his life with Mary, and the evidence that Kenna, despite everything, was growing to not only appreciate him but truly understand him. Instead of embracing her, however, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his grandmother's ring.

"Where did you get that?" cried Kenna, hands flying to her mouth in shock and surprise.

"One of the servants found it and had it delivered to me. Kenna, you're right. I don't have much to offer you which is truly mine, but I would be delighted if you, as my wife, would continue to wear this..."

"Stop talking, you fool!" interrupted Kenna, barely giving Bash time to slip the ring onto her finger before she was locked securely in his arms.

Later, as they lay tangled together in bed, Bash found Kenna's hand and kissed the place where the ring rested on her finger before pressing her palm to his cheek so he could feel the cool metal band against his skin.

"You told me once that you felt a queer sort of certainty when you looked at your wedding ring. Well, I do too." He whispered against her hand as she looked at him curiously.

"And what is that?" she murmured, releasing her hand from his grasp in order to run her fingers through his hair as he pulled her closer.

"That what little I have…_whatever_ I have in this life, I want to share it with you," he breathed before capturing her lips in another kiss.

They weren't ready to call it love. Not yet. But it was a promising start—a promising start with the ring of certainty.


End file.
